


Backwoods Bloodshed

by hiemsparadoxa



Category: Overwatch (Video Game)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Alternate Universe - No Overwatch, Demon Hanzo Shimada, Dracula Gabriel Reyes, Guns, Happy halloween, Hold on to your hats, Hunter Jesse McCree, Immortal Jack Morrison, Jack becomes a vampire, Lots of guns, M/M, Minor Character Death, Most of the ships are implied, Possibly OOC, R76 comes in later chapters, Supernatural Elements, Vampire Reaper | Gabriel Reyes, Van Helsing McCree, mentioned PTSD, ongoing, soldier centric, we're going to montana, well modern as in 1995
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-11-01
Updated: 2018-05-26
Packaged: 2019-01-27 17:28:48
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 4
Words: 5,034
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12586984
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/hiemsparadoxa/pseuds/hiemsparadoxa
Summary: Jack Morrison wakes up in the middle of the woods, covered in blood and mud, and completely lost in the middle of the night. His trusty semi-auto is jammed, and his neck hurts like hell.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Happy Halloween y'all! Chapters will be kinda short, but I hope you enjoy anyways! Kudos and comments are really appreciated <3

Jack didn’t remember how he got here, dumped on the ground--in the middle of the night--, his clothes dirtied by mud and soaked by rain. His neck stung with an intense pain, to which his hand immediately grabbed for it. Jack’s skin was slick with blood, that oozed from a wound on the side of his neck. He hissed in agony, but he knew this wasn’t the worst he’s faced. He does know, however, this is the most frightened he has felt, and this was a man hardened by war. 

Jack found his strength and rose to his feet, knees weak under the weight of his body. One glance around and he realises he has no idea where he is at. All he can deduct is that he is surrounded by bare trees. He feels his pocket for his phone, and is surprised to not find it. Jack tried to recall the last thing he remembered. 

_ Ana. Dinner with Ana. I was walking to my truck… and then?  _ His thoughts became loud. “Fuck,” Jack mumbled. He moved his hand from his neck, but the bleeding was persistent and he kept the pressure on the wound. Not far from where he had woke, he spotted a small trail. It ran north and south, and he decided to try his luck. He then remember the handgun he usually concealed on his person. He found its holster still snugly tucked in the back of his jeans, but the gun was gone. He searched the ground, and found it completely covered in mud. The gun may not be too much of use, but he checked how many bullets were left in the clip. Jack counted five out of the ten it could hold, and clicked the clip back into the gun. He flipped the safety back on and holstered it, running through the risks of using a dirty gun if he were to get in trouble. He chose a direction on the trail, and decided north would be his best bet. 

He walked for about half a mile, his hand still pressed firmly to his neck. Jack caught lights flickering just ahead, and saw the trail he walked was a driveway. At the end sat a cabin with a beat up Chevy parked in front. As Jack approached, he saw the lights were on inside through the curtains. He rolled the dice, and knocked. He put his other hand on the gun, just in case. 

The man who answered was tall, but not taller than Jack. His hair was tied back into a loose ponytail, and he wore a brown button up with blue jeans. He chewed on a cigar, and he couldn’t have been much older than forty. 

“Well, you look more fucked than a cat dipped in water,” The man said, his voice thick and smooth like honey. 

“I don’t know where I’m at, and I’m hurt,” Jack barely moved his hand to show it was covered in blood. 

“I see that, c’mon in an’ I’ll getcha patched up. Say, what’s your name?” 

Jack was hesitant to give his name to the stranger, but decided to trust his gut. “Jack Morrison.” 

“Jesse McCree,” Jesse offered for Jack to sit at the table. “I’ll be right back to getcha some first aid, keep pressure on that wound.” 

Jesse disappeared, while Jack took a seat. The cabin smelt of whiskey and cigarettes, and another smell Jack couldn’t quite put his tongue on. There were various animal heads mounted on the walls, some of the antler’s being used as gun racks. A fire burned, and there were two recliners in front of it with a small coffee table between them. Jack found the home of McCree to be very cozy, and very backwoods. But something caught Jack’s eye: a bulletin board with various newspaper clippings and photos with strings linked between them. 

Jesse returned with an old metal box with a big red plus sign on it, he set it on the table and pulled up a chair next to Jack. 

“Say, Mr. Morrison, where do you come from?” 

“I live in Townsend,” Jack moved his hand and allowed Jesse to clean the wound. 

“That’s about fifty miles from here, you’re out near Radersburg.” 

“Ah fuckin’ hell,” Jack grumbled. “I don’t remember anything that happened. I was out with an old friend of mine for drinks and dinner. I was walking to my truck, and thats all I remember.” 

Jesse’s eyebrows seemed to knit as he finished wiping down Jack’s wound. “I’ll be damned…” 

“What?” 

“Well, looks like you were bit.” 

“Bit? What the fuck are you talking about?” 

“What did you get to your truck, Mr. Morrison?” 

Jack creased his eyebrows. “About nineteen hours.”

“It’s ‘bout,” Jesse glanced behind him at an analogue clock shaped like a cowboy boot hanging on the wall. “Three o’clock in the mornin’.” 

“What the do you mean by  _ bit? _ ” 

“Well Mr. Morrison, this is gonna sound crazier than an outhouse fly but I reckon a vampire made a bit ovva snack outa you,” Jesse’s hands were careful in wrapping the wound with gauze and taping it off. 

“I’ve seen men being blown to shreds and generals driven to insanity and you’re telling me that I got bit by a  _ vampire  _ of all things?” Jack’s features hardened. 

“Yessir, bastards are common in these parts. Couldn’t tell ya why. Been tryna wrap my head around that myself.” 

Jack wasn’t sure if he wanted to laugh or cry when he saw that McCree was completely sincere. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for the read! Please consider buying me a ko-fi: http://ko-fi.com/hiemsparadoxa


	2. Chapter 2

Jesse had let Jack stay for the rest of the night on his couch. The old soldier didn’t sleep well, his neck ached and his head swirled with confusion. It was hard for him to be skeptical about vampires with his current condition, not when the bite on his neck felt all too real. He woke from his restless sleep when sunlight hit his face, he heard voices behind him. One was the sweet, Southern voice of Jesse, while the other was unfamiliar. 

He forced his senses to wake, the voices clear. 

“...transformation will take over his body soon,” Said the unknown voice. It was deep and accented, possibly from Asia. “There is not much we could do to stop it. It won’t kill him.” 

Jack opened his eyes, and was greeted by the cushions of the sofa. He tried to move his head a bit, but the pain in his neck was unbearable. 

“So what? We jus’ drop ‘im off back in Townscend and go on our merry way?” Jesse replied, impatience laced within his words. 

“No, that would be foolish.” 

Jack sat up on his elbows slowly, his eyes focusing on the two people sitting in the recliners in front of him. Jesse sat with his feet kicked up, a dark brown, torn up stetson on his head. The man who sat next to him had noticeably dark gray skin with a red and white tattoo swirling up his left arm. His features were sharp, and long, black hair draped over his shoulders. Jack couldn’t help but stare when his eyes connected with the man’s completely blank, all white eyes. 

“Now I’ve seen everything,” Jack muttered. 

The man chuckled and rose to his feet, he disappeared into the kitchen. 

“That’s Hanzo. He’s uh… A demon of sorts. Or an  _ oni  _ if we’re gonna be politically correct. Don’t worry, he ain’t gonna hurt ya,” Jesse tilted his hat back. 

Jack sighed heavily. “I’m not worried. I pack,” He reached for the mud encrusted gun in his holster. “Though it isn’t much use like this.” 

“Lemme see.” 

Jack unloaded the clip, and made sure the safety was on. He handed the gun to Jesse, who pulled back the hammer, bits of mud and dust dropping to the floor. Jesse whistled. “Its gonna take a couple hours to clean, but I can get it all nice an’ pretty for you.” 

Jack sighed in relief. “Thanks,” He takes the bullets out of the clip and hands it to Jesse, who snaps it back into the gun. 

Hanzo comes back with a cup of coffee and the metal first aid box, he gives it to Jack who gladly takes it. Jack sips on the burning liquid. 

“How does your neck feel?” Hanzo asked, still standing. 

“Like hell.” 

Hanzo hummed. “May I examine it?” 

“I suppose,” The demon wasn’t hostile, or really anything like Jack would imagine a demon would be.  _ Oni,  _ He reminded himself. Hanzo’s hands tenderly peeled away the gauze, the bandaging stuck to Jacks skin like tape. He cringed at the feeling. 

“It is not infected,” Hanzo seemed surprised. “Maybe you won’t transform after all. Or maybe it was slowed.” 

“What do you mean?” Jack asked lowly. 

“Those bitten usually die. But it seems luck was on your side,” Hanzo opens the box and replaces the bandaging. 

“If you want to call becomin’ one of them bloodsuckers lucky,” Jesse chimed. “‘M gonna see what I can do with this,” He rose to his feet, gun pointed at the floor, and walked further back into the cabin. 

“Will I have to avoid the sun?” 

Hanzo chuckled. “No. But I would recommend staying away from churches and filing your teeth. Those who live to become vampires usually don’t integrate back into society, but it is possible.” 

“And what about blood?”

“Feeding for a vampire is not completely necessary. If you wish to know your… abilities… to their full extent, drinking blood would be the only way to bring them to their full strength,” Hanzo sat in his chair again and grabbed the newspaper off the coffee table. 

Jack’s head buzzed with this information, and he suddenly felt dizzy. “You’re going to tell me there is a heaven and hell next.” 

“Depends, are you a religious man?” The demon didn’t spare Jack a glance. 

“I’ve been to war, there is no god,” The old soldier said boldly. 

“Then you have nothing to worry about.” 

Jack rose to his feet. “Mind showing me to your shower?” 

“Very well,” Hanzo sighed and lead Jack into the hallway McCree had disappeared into earlier. The closest door on the left was propped open, Jesse working under a lamp at getting Jack’s gun clean. Hanzo led him passed this door, and the next one on the right, before coming to the furthest door on the left. Hanzo opened it, and Jack was greeted with a bathroom that was decorated no different than the rest of the house. “Towels are under the sink.”

Jack was left alone. He closed the door behind him and began to strip down. He took off his shirt first, and tossed it to the side. He looked up to see his reflection staring back at him. His white hair stuck up in muddied tuffs, and his face was still blood-stained. Jack turned away from his reflection and stripped himself free from the rest of his soiled clothes. 

The steaming water was welcoming, and beat into his muscles better than any massage therapist. He relaxed his shoulders, neck and back to the mesmerizing sensation. He washed and rinsed a few different times, before a sharp pain overtook his face. His hand flew up to his mouth, a small groan of agony escaping his throat. A familiar taste of iron washed over his tongue; he moved his hand to see blood mixed with water, and dripping between his fingers. He closed his mouth and washed the blood away. The pain grew more intense, but he didn’t whimper. He swallowed down his own blood, and quickly got out of the shower and wrapped a towel around his waist. The fog that clouded the mirror was wiped away by Jack’s hand until he saw himself. He opened his mouth, blood completely covering his teeth, gums and tongue. The source grew in pain, and he was able to identify it. His top two canine teeth were bleeding from the gums, but they seemed normal in appearance--until he touched them. Both were extremely loose, and felt like they would fall out if he pressed his finger too hard against them. As a child would, he wiggled one of them, until a deafening  _ pop  _ filled his ears as the blood vessels connected to the tooth popped. Tears welled in his eyes as the bleeding intensified and the pain on that side grew worse. He filled a cup with water from the sink, and rinsed his mouth. Though the gum continued to bleed in the absence of his tooth, he saw the pearly tip of a much larger, sharper tooth. 

Jack swallowed, blood beginning to fill his mouth again with its rotten stench. He wiggled his other canine, and it broke free without much fight. He placed the two teeth he lost in his palm, and finally snapped his jaw shut. He examined them carefully, he knew they were adult teeth because he had lost all his baby teeth as a child. Jack set them on the counter in front of him, and leaned over the sink. The shower had rejuvenated him, but now he felt sicker than a dog. He became light headed again, and he broke out into a cold sweat. The bleeding in his mouth seemed to be ceasing, and he examined his teeth again after rinsing. 

Jack’s eyes widened at the sight of two vampiric fangs that replaced his canines. He felt horror take over his body, this is what he had become, and it  had hardly been twelve hours since he was allegedly bitten. He closed his jaw, but still bore his fangs. They no longer stung, but it was replaced by a faint ache. Jack brought his lips together, his eyes still nearly bulging from his skull. Ten years of war had brought him nightmares and stress, but this would change his life forever. Jack’s hands shook, he began to dig through the medicine in search of aspirin. He found a bottle with two left in it, and down the pills with water. He breathed, in through his nose and out through his mouth. Finally, he stepped away from the mirror, gathered his clothes and two lost teeth, and left the bathroom.


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey its been a while!  
> I'm done with my first semester at college! Yay! So I have tons of free time for about a month to write and hopefully finish my two fanfics I have posted. For those of you who don't know, I also have a Doomfist/Hanzo script style fanfic I'm working on at the same time as this one, but I plan to finish both of them by January 8th, which is when classes start again for me.  
> I'm going to aim for this fic to be about 5-7 chapters long, maybe a minimum of 5, but nothing set yet. This is just a make-up-what-happens as it goes, and its un-beta'd (technically). But thank you everyone for reading, I'm having a lot of fun writing this AU. Be sure to drop kudos and a comment if you'd like! Cheers <3

Jack’s eyes followed the analog clock hands. Its all he could do, until his gun was clean and he could be on his merry way. His gums still ached, he still tasted blood in his mouth. He ignored it. 

Jesse came out of his room about an hour later, Jack’s semi-auto in his hands. 

“It wasn’t easy,” Jesse gave the gun back. “But that thing will never be cleaner.” 

“Thanks,” Jack said gruffly, he made sure the safety was on before tucking it into its holster. “I need to go.” 

“I’ll drive ya, no worries.” 

Jesse grabbed his stetson that hung on the wall and a long coat. “Hanzo! ‘M takin’ Jack home!” 

Hanzo poked his head out of the hall, his eyes blankly staring at the two men. He hummed. “Very well,” And went back to his business.

Jesse’s truck was a blue ‘86 Chevrolet that had the appearance of a vehicle that had been taken apart and put back together on multiple occasions. “Yeah… Don’ mind Ole Blue’s condition.” 

Jack chuckled. “As long as it doesn’t fall apart on the road…” 

Jesse cracked a smile at his jest, and they drove on. They sat in a comfortable silence, Jack watching the trees thin out into sage brush and rolling hills. He still had many questions about “monsters” and the likes of them, but he decided to keep them to himself. What he didn’t know wouldn’t hurt him, except vampires apparently. 

Jesse suddenly slammed on the breaks; the old truck spun to the side in the slick, fresh mud. Jack held onto the dash, and when the truck stopped he glared at Jesse, who was wide eyed and focused on something outside. Jack followed his gaze, where he swore he saw a figure for a brief second before it disappeared in the dark tendrils of a black cloud. 

“What the fuck was that for?” Jack grumbled. 

“I’ll be damned,” McCree got out of the truck, his hands on his hip where his six shooter was holstered. Jack jumped out too, staring at some of the shrubs and sagebush around them. They were walled in by a short canyon, whoever--rather, whatever--it was couldn’t be far. Jesse examined their surroundings. “Fuck… That was a fuckin’ warnin’,” He turned to Jack. “Do you remember  _ anything  _ from who attacked you?”

“I told you, cowboy, all I remember is walking to my truck last night, then waking up covered in mud and in pain.”

“Can ya at least try? I think I ‘ave an idea but I  _ need  _ some sort of confirmation,” Jesse’s tone told Jack they weren’t going anywhere until he got what he wanted. 

Jack sighed, rubbed his temple, and crossed his arms. He went through everything he knew, trying to find an image of his attacker. He furrowed his brow. “I can’t say for sure, but I think whoever brought me here was male,” Jack paused. “Possibly with a buzzcut, beard.” 

“Skin color?” 

Jack shook his head. “I don’t know.” 

Jesse got in the truck, and Jack followed. He turned around. “Whoever it was, he doesn’t want you to leave,” Jesse murmured. 

“I can’t fuckin’ stay here,” Jack protested, his voice firm. “Turn the damn thing around, now.” 

“Mr. Morrison, I ain’t ready to risk whatever wrath this vampire is capable of,” He kept true to his direction. “And I  _ know  _ what those bastards can do. ‘M tryna save my own hide as well as yours. That lil gun of yours ain’t gonna do shit against a full fledged dracula.” 

Jack remained quiet, and allowed to be drug back to Jesse’s cabin. Hanzo stepped outside on the front porch, his brow furrowed at the return of both of them. “What happened?” He asked once both were in ear shot.

“We got a lil’ visit from a nice, friendly vampire. Stage four, ability to alter appearance, bright red eyes, ya get it,” Jesse brushed past Hanzo, who followed him inside. Jack stopped, he glimpsed back at the truck longingly. He wanted to go home, make sure Ana knew he was okay. Dammit, he would walk to Townsend if he had to. He entered the cabin; at least he was under a roof. 

Hanzo stood in the kitchen, arms crosse and empty eyes completely void of expression. “Do you think it could have been the master vampire?” He asked, a brow raised. “If there is a nest, that is.” 

“Han, I couldn’t tell you. He wasn’t some lil weak welp, that’s for sure. But he didn’t want us to leave,” Jesse glimpsed at Jack, who sat on the couch he slept on the previous night. “Or, more likely, Morrison to leave.” 

Jack felt both pairs of eyes on him. “I just want to go home,” He murmured.

“Yes, we all do,” Hanzo turned back to the stove, where he fixed himself a mug of hot tea. “But vampires, especially in rural areas, tend to stick together in clans.” 

“We reckon there is a nest ‘round here. A small community of tens of vampires.” 

“Radersburg?” Jack asked. 

“No, otherwise we would have squashed it out by now. This one is closer, or deeper in the mountains,” Hanzo sat in his chair cross legged, watching the fireplace burn. The demon held his mug in both hands, and sipped on the hot tea. “We have been tracking this particular clan for months.” 

Jesse took a seat next to Jack; he discarded the stetson, setting it on his lap. “That thing the two of us saw… Han an’ I think he’s their leader.”

“And you didn’t think to fucking mention this to me? That whoever bit me would want me to live with them?” Jack tried to keep his voice level, but found it difficult with the current situation. He rose to his feet, glaring down at McCree. “I don’t want to play hide and seek with a bunch of fucking vampires.” 

McCree narrowed his gaze, but he chose to keep his mouth shut.  _ Wise,  _ Jack thought.

“Do not worry, Morrison,” Hanzo’s voice was steady, but firm. He had not spared Jack a glance. “McCree and I have been working together for many years. Now, I have a suggestion. Please, sit.” 

Jack obeyed reluctantly, and sat down again. 

Hanzo finally glanced at both of them, mostly focusing on Jesse. “We rest. And when you both feel ready, we will do a little vampire hunting,” The demon’s lips quirked into a half smile. 

“I don’t know about that, darlin’,” McCree sighed. 

“Oh, come on Jesse,” Hanzo stood, and walked towards the kitchen. “I track, you kill. As we have always done it.” 

“Yeah I know,” McCree followed him. “But what about Jack?”

“What about him? We can show him how we take care of menaces like this. Are you not tired of standing around, McCree? Just waiting for something to happen?” 

“Somethin’ did happen…” 

“But I do not see you following the trail,” Hanzo’s smirk disappeared, he glanced at Jack. “We could bait the leader out. Now that we have a youngling on our hands. A master vampire cannot resist the allure of one of his children.” 

“We don’t know who bit him.” 

“But we have a good idea. What is holding you back, Jesse?” Hanzo poured himself some more tea. 

The hunter looked like he wanted to say something, but shook the thought out of his head. “Fine,” Jesse was defeated, and Hanzo gave him a knowing smirk. He turned to Jack. “C’mon. I’ll show you what we use.”

Jack stood, he couldn’t say he wasn’t at least interested, but he wouldn’t show it. He was led to Jesse’s gun room, where he stored various weapons. What caught jack’s attention immediately were the three bows hanging on the opposite wall from the door, each with a matching quiver and unique arrows. Next to the bows were a few different swords, one he recognized to be a katana. 

“Hanzo’s,” McCree gestured. “I recommend you don’t so much as breathe next to them. He won’t even let me touch them,” Jesse directed Jack’s attention to a glass case on the right wall, and right next to it a tall safe. Rifles and shotguns sat in the glass case, which McCree opened. 

“Take your pick,” He motioned. “I trust that you handle my guns with respect.” 

Jack scoffed. Then he remembered how he brought his semi-auto the previous night: almost completely ruined. He pushed the thought away, but scanned each of the guns. Then one caught his eye, a 1964 M16 automatic rifle. He picked the gun up, and laughed. “Wow, that’s illegal.” 

“Yeah, yeah. Most of this shit is,” Jesse shook his head. “It don’t matter down here. We’re off the grid, and doing society a service.” 

Jack was impressed with how clean it was for a fifty year old gun. “Does it still work?” 

“Well yeah, otherwise it wouldn’t be in that case. Here,” Jesse turned to the safe, and unlocked it as well. He pulled out a box of ammo. “For all of our weapons against vampires and some other cryptids, we use silver. Hanzo has silver tipped arrows, I have silver bullets. We can go shoot it out back, if you’d like.” 

Jack couldn’t resist, he accepted. 


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oh my god its been so long since I updated this and I'm really sorry. College requires 90% of my attention, but I just have work now so I can devote some more time to writing again! Thanks for sticking through this. I also noticed there were quite a bit of little grammar mistakes within the first chapters, so when this fic is done I'll go through and correct everything so it doesn't seem so inconsistent (my writing style has changed quite a bit in the past few months). Anyways, this one is a bit short, but it hits kinda hard so be ready.

Most of the day was spent inside Jesse’s gun room and outside at the makeshift firing range. Jack learned the silver wouldn’t hurt him unless it were in his bloodstream. He learned some other weaknesses for vampires, such as blessed wooden stakes through the chest and the blood of a werewolf. By dusk, they were ready to hunt. 

It was an unlikely team, Jack realised. An experienced hunter and sharpshooter, a demon archer, and a war veteran all with the goal to kill vampires of all things. Still, Jack felt confident in his newfound knowledge. Oddly enough, he trusted the other hunters. 

They all squeezed into Jesse’s truck with Jack in the middle, and drove further into the woods. As the sun dipped lower, Jack found he wasn’t having a hard time seeing. Curious, he looked at his reflection in the rear view, and saw his eyes were a glowing dark red. 

“Night vision is something all vampires have, no matter how strong or weak they are,” Hanzo commented. “As you can imagine it’s one of the weaknesses for those who live among humans.”

Jack didn’t reply, he stared straight ahead. He instead thought about his expectations for this ‘master’ vampire. Jesse tried to reassure earlier that it wasn’t anything they hadn’t dealt with before, but it was all still new to Jack. 

“Pull over,” Hanzo said to Jesse, to which the gunslinger obeyed. The demon stepped out of the truck, his blank eyes glued to the tree tops above. 

“What is it, Han?” Jesse stepped out as well, a hand on his gun. 

“A lair, not far from here,” Hanzo looked to Jesse, then Jack. “About… two miles. Its strong.” 

“Then lets not waste anytime,” Jack got out of the truck. Jesse popped the tailgate, and grabbed the two gun cases. He handed Jack the M16 and two extra clips, while he armed himself with his Winchester. Jesse moved the gun cases back, and let Hanzo get his bow.

“Lead the way, darlin’,” Jesse said. “Keep your eyes open. Never know when you’ll stumble over one of these fuckers.” 

Jack nodded. He felt himself being sent back twenty years. To that fucking jungle. Although, Jack found this situation to be much more favorable than those years. He pushed those memories away--he had a job to do.

Hanzo lifted his hand, an order to stop. The tracker turned his head to the north, eyes narrowed. Jack heard it, scuffling amongst the brush. He looked towards that direction, and saw a tall figure standing between the trees. Their eyes glowed the same dark red as Jack’s, and his blood ran cold when they locked onto him. Two more pairs of eyes popped up. Jack raised his gun, aimed for between the taller one’s eyes. 

They began to approach. 

“Don’t shoot,” Hanzo said. 

“What do we have here?” A woman’s voice said. Her figure came into focus. She was slender and pale, to the point where she looked sickly. “Some amatuer hunters it seems and… Oh? Jack Morrison, its a pleasure to finally meet you face to face.” 

“Amatuer?” Jesse murmured. He pulled out his revolver and shot one of the other vampires dead. 

“Jesse!” Hanzo yelled. In an instant, the woman had a hand and McCree’s neck and was lifting him off the ground. Jack backed up, frozen in fear. Hanzo knocked an arrow, but was attacked by the other ghoul--his bow flung from his grasp. With barely any time to process what was happening, Jack took aim for the slick tongued vampire and shot her in the shoulder. She released Jesse, who crumpled to the ground, and stumbled backwards, clutching her smoldering shoulder. Jack kept her at bay with the gun’s barrel pressed to her forehead. Out of his peripheral, he saw Hanzo easily overpower his attacker and drive a silver blade through its temple. 

“Who are you?” Jack growled. 

She had no way out. “Fine,” She spat. “My name is Moira. I’m the Master’s right hand--which I assume you three idiots are looking for him.”

“And you’re going to take us to him.”

“Jack, wait,” Hanzo said. The old soldier glanced at him; he had Jesse’s head in his lap, who looked like hell. “He’s hurt bad. We should go back. I won’t press on without him and I won’t let you go by yourself.” 

“Then what do we do with her?” 

“Kill her,” Hanzo narrowed his gaze. 

“Now wait a second--” Moira protested. “Whatever you want, take me as your prisoner.” 

“Yes, and break our barrier so you can lure the rest of your clan to our hideout,” Hanzo snarled. “Kill her, Morrison. She is nothing but a slave to her master.” 

Jack moved the barrel from Moira’s head to over her heart, and pulled the trigger. The vampire’s blood splattered, and Jack watched as the light left her eyes. He turned his back on Moira’s body, and walked back to Hanzo. Black bruises had formed around Jesse’s neck--nothing Jack has never seen before, but he also had purple veins that stretched up to his cheeks right eye. 

“What did she do to him?” Jack picked up Jesse’s rifle and slung it over his shoulder. 

“She tried to make him into her ghoul. She was much more than just an average vampire… He’s alive, but we need to get back to the cabin,” Hanzo slipped one arm under Jesse’s legs and scooped him up. 

“Serves him right,” Jack muttered and began walking back to the truck. 

Hanzo snapped his head to the soldier. “He’s a fool but I wouldn’t speak ill of him,” He said. 

“We could have gotten to the nest if this fucking  _ bonehead  _ didn’t get cocky with a necromancer. I thought you idiots were professionals.” 

“Do not overstep your boundaries, Morrison. I know what he did, and he will know of it, too. But I advise you keep your fucking mouth shut until he wakes up. If… if he wakes up.” 

They were silent from then on. When they got back to the cabin, Hanzo took Jesse to their room, and Jack was left with his own thoughts. On one hand, he resented Hanzo and Jesse for keeping him here, on the other he hoped the gunslinger would be okay and ready to hunt the master vampire again soon. Mostly, he wanted to leave this damn place. He had told Ana he was going straight home, but he couldn’t imagine the worry she felt for him. That, and he hadn’t shown up for work in a couple days. Surely he’d be filed as a mission person within the next day. Maybe that would be his chance to escape this hell.


End file.
